Silk Strings
by Constantlyconsciouslyaware13
Summary: Kilena Mizzrym knew from a young age that the life of the drow was not for her, yet when she is sent to the Drow academy ArachTinilith, how will she survive amongst her bloodthirsty, cunning sisters? r&r please! don't own a thing...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Menzoberranzan and other forgotten realms settings in this story do not belong to me, so don't sue.

**A/N:** due to a single review from SteelAndFire, I have decided to revamp and continue this story. So, for all y'all out there actually reading this, thank SAF that I'm moving on.

-LFK

_**Menzoberranzan, House Mizzrym…**_

Wrenching screams echoed throughout the massive courtyard of the Mizzrym fortress. Faerie fire flickered from the battlements of the towering walls to illuminate the troubling scene below. A thousand pairs of red, glowing eyes watched as a male screamed out his last moments in sick satisfaction.

The pained screams would have been uncommon anywhere else on Faerûn, from the port city of Waterdeep to the jewel of the north that was Silverymoon, had this not been the Underdark; had the hate-twisted figures not been the most feared denizens of the deep; had the tormentors not been Drow.

Drow. The very word brings terror to the hearts of the goodly folk of Faerûn, and worry to even those of the strongest warriors and wisest kings.

The young male, not more than a century and a half in age, fought wildly against the restraints that bound him to the rune-covered table, lustrous white hair whipping about as he squirmed from side to side to avoid his tormentors; spiders. Spiders of all sizes and species, thousands of them, scuttled and crawled across his limbs, blazing a trail of pain that twisted his gut from foot to waist. Blood trickled into the grooves of the stone table in rivulets, bright red streams that leaked from the weeping wounds and sores across his body.

"Mercy!" he threw his head back and howled as the poison lacing his veins set fire to every nerve ending in his lungs. The beautiful, sibilant language of the drow emerged harsh with anguish and pain, tattered by torture into a mockery of itself.

"You wish for mercy?" All eyes flicked to the grand balcony that overlooked the courtyard, and a hush fell over the eager crowd. Even the spiders, thousands of tiny red eyes that matched the red on their fangs, ceased their feeding frenzy at the sound of their mistress's cold voice. "You, a filthy male who would dare lay a hand on a princess of this house, would compound upon your sin by begging mercy from the Queen of Spiders? Fool!" Matron Mother Me'Zzarl of the third house of Menzoberranzan, House Mizzrym, rose from her obsidian throne and stepped forward to watch the commoner soldier squirm and squeal as thousands of tiny fangs tore his flesh.

Her retinue, four female guards and her three oldest daughters watched dispassionately as the male was slowly consumed from feet to hips. His screams had become soundless as his voice wore itself out, and now he couldn't do much more than pant and clench his teeth.

Suddenly, through the excruciating pain in his lower body and the blood pumping in his skull, the unfortunate soldier could hear music floating through the stone square accompanied by a small child's innocent laughter. The other troops, ranging from warriors to wizards, assassins to priestesses, all cocked an ear to listen to the cheerful tune coming from the huge manor house. Happiness in any form was uncommon in all drow houses, but especially so in Mizzrym.

Mother Me'Zzarl's face twisted in anger and she gestured fiercely for her eldest daughter, Berylin, to take care of the problem. _Bring her to me! _She signed quickly in the silent hand language of the drow. The High Priestess of Lolth bowed with a sneer and went off to carry out her duty.

Terrified kobolds, vermin servants of the Matron, skittered out of Berylin's path as she swept down the halls of the Mizzrym fortress. Carved out of a stalagmite that encompassed the interior of a cave that overlooked the Mushroom Forest of Menzoberranzan, House Mizzrym was nearly invincible from attack from any other direction but the front.

All noble drow houses, from the hundredth to House Baenre itself, were built with one thing in mind: security and might. Might was the Mizzrym focus- wizardly might.

High ramparts were the second line of defense against invaders, from which the Mizzrym sharpshooters and wizards would devastate their enemies. Ballistae with magical bolts attacked from the high towers set at intervals on the battlements to take out enemy lizard riders sprinting across the walls and ceiling, and levitating nobles floating out of the shadows. That power, levitation, was restricted to the noble members of the drow houses.

Behind the great obsidian walls was the courtyard where the Matron Mother held court to her loyal, fearful, servants, as well as made examples of the unfortunate disobedient. On the four corners of the courtyard were the guard barracks, the Lizard stables, the slave quarters, and the kennels that held the Nobles' pets.

The Mizzrym cave itself was a defense mechanism against any enemy foolish enough to attack the powerful third house. Mynocs, ever-hungry giant bats, roosted in the ceiling, awaiting their unwitting prey, while large spiders wove their webs in the shadows of the huge cave. Besides the beasts and monsters of the Underdark, the house wizards could conjure up countless more horrible things in their Matron's defense.

As Berylin neared the oaken door that led to her youngest sister's chambers, she began to hear voices coming from the room. The first voice was high pitched and childlike, and she recognized the lilting giggle as her sister's. The other voice was deeper and clearly male. That would be her older brother, Raeylon.

Raeylon Mizzrym, son of the first patron of Matron Me'Zzarl and the only male of the house to bear the family name, was the commander of Mizzrym's legions and the captain of the Matron Mother's elite group of male guards. He was also the one responsible for his youngest sister's training with weapons, a responsibility Berylin had foisted on him so she wouldn't have to do it. She had more important things to do than baby-sit a worthless little brat.

"I swear," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door with the butt of her whip. The snakeheads twined lovingly around her forearm and flicked their tongues in anticipation of future use. "That male will be the first one to die after I kill that arrogant bitch Matron!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** who would claim to own the forgotten realms?

**A/N:** not much to say, so away we go!

_**Mizzrym Manor, Kilena's Bedroom…**_

Raeylon Mizzrym, lone male noble of the house, reclined on a plush sofa, crimson eyes half-open as he listened to his youngest sister sing softly to herself as she played her child sized lute.

_Her majesty, the Spider Queen_

_The greatest god of all,_

_Leads the Drow, as she knows how,_

_With spider fang and claw!_

The ever-wary captain kept an eye on the little girl and an ear to the proceedings in the courtyard. It was the drow way to be cautious, and Raeylon had more reason than any just by being in this room.

Earlier that day, before Narbondel's glow had reached the center point of its passage, Raeylon had been doing his rounds of the guard posts when he heard a commotion coming from the courtyard between the castle and the grand Cathedral of Lolth. Screams of terror weren't uncommon in his house, but the voice that cried out to him made his step stutter and his heart stop dead. It was his youngest sister, Kilena, who was crying out so.

_Her mighty spells keep us well,_

_Protecting large and small._

_Without her darkness, as priestess said, we'd all be dead, _

_Stricken by the flaming ball!_

After gutting a guard discovered drunk at his post, Raeylon sprinted towards the courtyard and the screams. Kilena, a precious drow child who hadn't yet been stripped of her innocence and naivety, was holding on for dear life to the giant obsidian spider that was Matron Me'Zzarl's tribute to Lolth. The drow-child had been experimenting with her power of levitation, an act that was supposed to be supervised at all times by his sister, Berylin. It was astonishing, not only that she could have made it all the way to the top of the one hundred foot stature, but that she had done it only by the aid of her house brooch.

"Lolth damn it!" He cursed as he slid to a stop. He could do nothing to prevent what happened next.

A young male guard, newly sworn to the house after Mizzrym's conquest of an upstart fourth house that was not to be named, abandoned his post and stood under the girl, urging her to let go and fall into his arms. A knife hidden in his right palm glinted in the faerie fire's violet light.

"Keroth!" she screamed. "Brother, help me!"

"Tacet!" Raeylon shouted. "Stop! Kilena! Do not let go!" But it was too late. Kilena released the Spider's leg with a shriek and plummeted towards the ground far below. It was certain death whether she landed in the guard's arms or hit the ground.

Not daring to strike down the assassin with steel or spell for fear of hurting Kilena, Raeylon barreled into the man and threw them both to the ground. With the guard still struggling under him, Raeylon threw his right hand out and screamed, "Aurachil!" The word activated his spell and the ground beneath the falling child roiled into action. A hand made of the same substance as the courtyard reached out of the yawning hole and nabbed Kilena in midair.

Raeylon sighed inwardly and then scowled angrily at the young man underneath him.

"You fool!" he growled as he heaved his prisoner to his feet by the throat. "You would risk your life to kill a daughter of the Mizzrym house after swearing allegiance to the Matron Mother! Fool, and twice damned for your idiocy!" Raeylon, although slender, was very well muscled, and held the squirming assassin in an iron grip.

Just then, he heard the all too familiar sound of hissing snakes and the crack of whips. He had been hoping to cover up the incident without notice and take care of the assassin himself, quietly, and away from prying eyes, but it was too late. The Matron, accompanied by her terrible entourage, had arrived.

Raeylon dropped the unfortunate guard to the ground in front of his Matron and bowed low before collecting the laughing Kilena from his earth elemental.

"Wow, Raeylon!" Kilena had laughed as her brother lifted her out of the pile of dirt and led her swiftly away from the tense scene. "I didn't know you could do that! Let's do it again!" Raeylon noticed the Matron's complexion darken in anger and decided it would be better to abandon dignity and challenge Kilena to a race, all in an effort to get out of sight as soon as possible.

Now, all he could hear were the poor boy's screams, and those of pleasure from the onlookers, from the courtyard. It was a delicious sound. Intoxicating.

"Raeylon? Raeylon! Are you listening to me?"

Raeylon started out of his thoughts as Kilena's sweet voice cut through his fogged mind. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then faced his sister.

Garbed in a black silk tunic, deep violet shirt and matching breeches with a traditional Drow piwafwi draped over her shoulders, Kilena fit the part of a Mizzrym princess, though underage, perfectly. Her white hair was long enough to reach her waist in billowing curls, and her expressive eyes were a deep amber unlike any he'd ever seen on one of his people before.

"Yes, Sister?" he replied with mock formality, and a twisted grin. There was no telling who was listening in on their conversation at any point in time. Backstabbing was akin to breathing in the daily life in Menzoberranzan.

Kilena carefully placed her precious lute in its wooden case and slid it under her plain bed, out of sight from the prying eyes of her older sisters, before facing him on the couch.

Though she was a princess of House Mizzrym, Kilena was the youngest of four sisters and not even a priestess; therefore she had no status other than her family name. Her chambers were plain in comparison to those of her eldest sister, Berylin, though she supposed they were grander than those the house guard slept in.

Made up of but three rooms -a common room, study, and bedchamber- there were few in the amount of furnishings beyond bed, desk, and bookshelves. According to her mother, she must look and act the part of a princess while in public, yet wasn't required to have the room of one.

"Why didn't you want Omairin to help me out when I fell?" she asked finally. She sat on the edge of her seat with her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap, amber eyes meeting his crimson squarely.

"Omairin?"

"The young guard, remember? I levitated to the top of the statue because I wanted to see the city. You can't see it from the wall top, you know, and I've never really seen it before." She smiled sheepishly and toyed with a lock of her hair before continuing. "Then I remembered that it was Omairin's turn on watch and I wanted to say hello. He's been very kind to me ever since he began to work for us."

Raeylon groaned inwardly and wished fervently that the Matron Mother would at least kill the young man in a way that wouldn't be so obvious to Kilena. He was still in disbelief at how fast his little sister was reaching her fortieth year, and still hadn't been exposed to the realities of Menzoberranzan. Perhaps their mother, somewhere in her twisted heart, felt a slight ounce of compassion for her youngest daughter, and wished her to have a somewhat happy childhood. Then again, perhaps the matron simply couldn't care less how her child fared in their dark world.

Kilena, tall and willowy in form, was three decades old and fast loosing the baby fat from her cheeks. Though she was more than adept at the wizardly arts for which Mizzrym was famed, and an excellent blade fighter, thanks to her brother's teaching, Kilena's true gift came from an unexpected direction. Music. Her amazing skill with musical instruments and perfectly pitched voice had long come to the attention of Matron Me'Zzarl, who, like all Drow, appreciated anything that gave her pleasure.

"So," Raeylon had to clear his throat to keep from sounding gruff and strangled. "You knew this Omairin well, I take it. Did he ever, um, touch you?"

Kilena laughed her tinkling laugh and replied, "you can say it in front of me, big brother. No, Omairin never 'touched' me in any fashion. I just wanted to have a friend who was my age, that's all."

Raeylon sighed and got to his feet, magic boots dampening the sound. Kilena watched as he paced over to her desk and downed the glass of rare berry wine that she'd left out for him. They had these conversations whenever he wasn't out of the house on the Matron's business, and she always made sure there was something for him to drink. Her brother always had the saddest expression on his face when he returned, and drank a lot of the wine before it was gone.

Raeylon wiped his lips on the back of his hand and then set the glass down with a clack that made Kilena jump.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Lena," He sighed, scrubbing his face with both hands before whirling to face her. "You are a princess of the Third House of Menzoberranzan. You are not allowed to have friends, or buddies, or mates. There are only allies and enemies, and you can't even count on those."

"I refuse to believe that!" Kilena leapt to her feet, eyes blazing and fists clenched in anger. Though she had an unusually pleasant disposition, for a drow, she had the quick, volatile temper inherited in full from her mother. Raeylon rose to the occasion. He had too much pent up anger roiling inside to withdraw now.

"You refuse!" he roared in return, fist raised in front of her face. Kilena actually flinched back as though she expected him to hit her. His heart wrung at her stunned expression, but he had to make his point. She didn't have the luxury to be innocent to the ways of the Drow, not as old as she was.

"You are drow, girl! This is your reality, your life. Do you think you have a choice? You don't!" he grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her over to the standing mirror next to her full closet.

"Tell me what you see!" he shouted when they stood in front of the priceless glass. Kilena murmured under her breath and cast a dim light spell. The darkness of the Underdark rendered the use of mirrors obsolete as a looking glass, a fact that wasn't missed at all by the self-absorbed Drow. Only wizards, priestesses, and those that didn't mind the uncomfortable glow of candle or mage light used the mirrors in the purpose they were created for.

The small glow of the fleck of light illuminated both of them in a small ring that barely held back the darkness that only seemed oppressive when in the presence of light.

"What do you see?" Raeylon repeated quietly, watching as the girl's brow furrowed in thought.


End file.
